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About Amsterdam

I’m feelin’ it, tho—hustle’s real, raw, like blood in the dirt. “I drink your milkshake!” I yell in my head, picturin’ takin’ down the whole scene. Ain’t just about the lay, it’s the story, the fight. You try it, man, but watch your back—shady dudes lurk. Apollo out!

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First off, I’m wandering around the streets, and I’m like, “Where the heck am I?” I mean, I got off at the wrong train station. Classic me. I was supposed to hit up Groningen, but nope, Leek it is. So I’m strolling down the Hoofdstraat, and it’s all cute and stuff. Like, I could totally see myself living here. But then, bam! I trip over a cobblestone. Seriously, who thought that was a good idea? I’m like, “Great, now I’m gonna break my ankle in a town no one knows.”

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